Raiders by Robbins Harold

Author:Robbins, Harold [Robbins, Harold]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 1994-03-06T13:08:29+00:00

15

1

FOUR MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF NEVADA SMITH — that is, in late summer 1953 — Bat flew to Havana. Jonas sent him. It was the first time Bat would be working alone, without his father's close supervision.

Fulgencio Batista had sent Jonas an invitation to come to Havana, delivered as a personal message by the Cuban consul-general in New York. Batista hoped Jonas Cord would invest money in Cuba: specifically in building a casino-hotel. Jonas had replied that he could not come anytime soon but would send his son, Jonas Enrique Raul Cord y Batista.

They sat down over dinner in the presidential palace. Batista pronounced himself overjoyed to make the acquaintance at last of his niece's son.

"We've met before, of course," he said, speaking Spanish. "I came to Cordoba. You were but a child."

"I remember," said Bat.

"I came again. You were in Europe fighting the war."

Fulgencio Batista was fifty-two years old that year, a compact man who still carried himself as the army officer he had been. He appeared to be of Spanish-Indian extraction: swarthy of complexion, with dark eyes and brushed-back hair held in place with a fragrant oil. He wore a cream-colored single-breasted suit, a pearl-gray shirt, and a red-and-blue tie in a bold pattern. On his left hand he wore a massive gold ring.

They talked for a while about nothing consequential. Then Batista explained why he had invited the Cords to come to Cuba.

"It is too bad that neither you nor your father has ever come here before," he said. "This country is poor, but this island is beautiful. The climate is better than Miami's. The beaches are extraordinary. The fishing is superb. The flight is short and easy. The Cuban people are hospitable. No nation in the world offers more beautiful — or complaisant — women. I have determined to build our economy by making Cuba attractive to tourists. Anyone who invests merely two hundred thousand dollars in a hotel or motel can have a gaming license. Cord Hotels, Incorporated, wants to build a casino-hotel in Las Vegas. Why not build it here?"

"The Saturday Evening Post article —" Bat started to say. He referred to an article published in that magazine in the spring, exposing dishonest practices in Cuban casinos.

"But you do not know what we did," Batista interrupted. "I turned the army against the card sharps. Military intelligence was given the task of identifying them. Many were Americans. We arrested them and deported them. The Cubans were released from jail with a warning they would return to jail and stay there if they ever went near a casino again. Now we play by new rules. The razzle-dazzle games — eight-dice games and all that — are forbidden. We know we cannot attract the clientele we want if we allow cheating."

"It's hard to control," said Bat.

"I've hired an expert," said Batista. "You know him. Meyer Lansky."

"I've never met him," said Bat. "My father knows him."

"A really profitable gaming operation," said Batista, "can only operate if the people who play can have confidence in it.

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